


"Anything if you'll smile like that every day."

by Luxi_Storyteller



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Clarke has a shitty morning, F/F, Fluffy, Lexa is horney, Lexa wants to make a family of fluff with Clarke, Little smut and swearing, Protective Lexa, So sweet I want to puke
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-05
Updated: 2016-03-05
Packaged: 2018-05-24 23:29:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6171019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luxi_Storyteller/pseuds/Luxi_Storyteller
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lexa hates Clarke's job. She hates it more when Clarke texts her to tell her that she passed out. But Lexa wants to make Clarke's day. So they visit the humane society for A kitten. Just one, but here's the thing, they only have a kitten, and Clarke wants a puppy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	"Anything if you'll smile like that every day."

**Author's Note:**

  * For [t_tone83](https://archiveofourown.org/users/t_tone83/gifts).



> Please kudos if you like it. Please please please. You have no idea how much it means to me.

Laying in bed without Clarke is one of the most annoying feelings. I hate her work schedule. She leaves when the sun is just getting up to spend her days yelling at those fucking teens to stop licking each other. It's ridiculous. I mean the bed gets cold, and her pillow gives too much to be her soft curves that drive me crazy.

I bury my face into her pillow and inhale the mixture of her Matrix shampoo and the vanilla sandalwood that she lightly sprays over herself each day. Well that's not the only smell, but maybe this should be a little more g-rated since one of her kids could find it.

Fuck g-rated! Those little shits need to stop stalking her every move. So yeah… Anyways did I mention I hate her work schedule. I mean she is fucking awake and at work when my fingers should be three deep with her moaning those pleads that drive me crazy. Just like last night. _Fuck I hate her work schedule._

My phone buzzes on the table. It's an off day for me, so usually I stay in bed until she gets off. _Ha ha! Gets off! I'm fucking hilarious._ No, but seriously her texting me this early is unusual, and I know it's her because of that screaming song I set as her ring tone. Still not sure why I would do that but it seemed to fit when she was riding my figurative dick on tumblr.

The awesome shit is she rides my literal dick now. With my eyes closed I can still see her tits bouncing and her hands in her hair thoroughly enjoying herself. _Fuck she needs to quit her job!_

Reaching over I tug the phone from the cord. It's fully charged and I smile as I read the Princess is doing her good deed for the day, donating blood.

I snuggle back into the pillow. My lids are heavy and I feel the warmth heaviness coming over me from that thick as fuck comforter the blonde insists on keeping on the bed even though Phoenix is already 90 fucking degrees. But it's heavy like her snoring at night and I drift away from hating her schedule.

~~~~~

Screaming wakes me, and the phone is vibrating with the song against the hideous night stands that match the equally shitty dresser that she picked when she convinced me to compromise with her on the coffee table.

Reaching over, I pull the phone to me and try to unlock the screen. It takes too many tries, but I finally get it open. I squint at the overly bright screen.

My eyes pop open though as I reread the message, “I passed out and scared the shot out of everyone.” _What the fuck?!_

My body is up and legs off the edge of the bed in a minute. Fingers hitting the screen in a vicious panic,  “Damn it babe!”

The bed groans as I stand, eyes scanning the dresser where Clarke has left open half of the drawers. _I swear that if she is okay, I will never complain again about her leaving the drawers open._ I'm not even sure who or what I am swearing too.

I find a shirt and pull it over my head. I look down at the faded blue shirt with _The Land Before Time_ dinosaurs trek across my breasts. I realize in my fluster that I forget a fucking bra.

Hitting the screen again, I type out a succession of ‘no’s and ‘not allowed’s.

The phone screams as I the tug back shirt over my head. I pull and finally free my head feeling grateful Prisa wasn't here to make fun of me. The phone keeps screaming and I know it's because Clarke can't just send one; no, every text is a sentence in quick succession.

“I’m sorry baby” and then, “So they have to check my blood pressure every ten minutes for a half hour and I need to puss” and the correction “piss”.

I am confused, so I type as I pee, “Wait they won't let you leave?”

It's takes longer than I would like to get a response. Twisting my wild mane up and into a messy knot on the top of my hair. Glancing in the mirror, I wish I could just cut it all off and shave the sides. But Clarke begged me not to. Obsessed with playing with my hair. She said I could do what I want but I knew that tone. Her tone of submission trained into her by the people who “owned” her before I tried to set her free. I sigh, and pick up the phone.

“Yeah they are not letting me go” and then, “My blood pressure dropped from 170 to 110.”

Chest rumbling, I type out my “grrr.”

This can't be happening. Not after my favorite television show killed my favorite character last night. Not after I spent all last night pretending not to cry over a fictional character’s death as Clarke drove home from the night class she teaches just to hold me. Which turned to loving me, and reminding me that I'm still alive with sweet kisses _everywhere._ Before she took her own pleasure as I watched her roll her hips over mine and take me inside her.

I hold on to the side of the counter just relive our moments together. The way I couldn't stand to be away from her any longer, the long distance thing becoming too much so I packed up my life and uhauled across the country so she wouldn't have to leave the job she loved. The way she cried as I pulled up and wrapped me into arms that held me like she would never let me go. The arguments over furniture for the new place. Her morning smiles, and the way I could visually watch her drinking down that ridiculous drink. The way she would relax into the car seat and just relish in life. _Fuck! I need to tell her I love her more. Tell her she's pretty, and remind her how important she is to me._

I release the counter and pull on the boot cut jeans on the floor.

The phone screams and it's in my hand before it’s finished. “So they tried to sit me up again and I got sick again” then “I'm back to laying back.”

There's nothing else to say besides, “I'm on my way.”

~~~~~

It's a twenty minute drive and I hate that it is taking me so long. I hate that I haven't heard from her. I hate that she could be in danger and I'm not there to protect her.

The radio switches songs and the display reads, “One Call Away.” _Our song._ The song that I used to send her snapchats of singing to her.

The phone screams, as my car merges onto the freeway. I open it, knowing that reading and driving is not good, but there is nothing that is going to stop me from knowing what is going on.

“Hey so I need you to stay calm,” well that is not good.

A moment later, “I can't seem to keep anything down and when they move me to the sitting position. I get sick so they called a medical team to come evaluate further.”

 _No no no!_ I press on the gas harder. Engine growling with the extra fuel.

She sends another text though, “It's going to be ok though.” I hate that that is so Clarke. She is probably panicking and yet she will do everything to keep me calm. She would be dying of cancer and never tell me to protect me, and it drives me crazy.  

My grip tightens on the steering wheel, and I can feel the blood loss. _Why can't they just put her blood back in?! Give it back to her!_

The exit approaches and I don't even slow as I take the off ramp. The path is clear, and I’m on the main street speeding down, changing lanes anytime someone gets in my way. Nothing is going to stop me from getting to my blonde. To my princess. Mine.

I know that Clarke’s independence is important to her, but I love more that she lets me call her mine. To claim her. Mark her with my lips, and occasionally teeth. It only costs me very expensive foundation so she doesn’t get fired.

She hasn’t texted me again, and I am getting more riled. _Why is she not keeping me updated? What if something is wrong?_

The tightness in my chest is renewed as my skin prickles and the color from my knuckles drains. I need to know how she is doing, so I check my phone again. Maybe I missed the text. I mean, she always says my phone sucks. Maybe it’s not registering. But nothing.

“Babe,” I type out. But nothing returns. _Why doesn’t she have her phone? Why isn’t she answering me?_

The school is within sight after one more left turn and two lights. The tiny little charter school that looks like a fucking doctor’s office instead of a school. The huge blood drive van is parked outside, and the thing that drops my heart is the large red ambulance blocking the entrance to the tiny multi purpose room.

I don’t even find a parking spot. Just throw the car into park, and twist the key. Tearing it out of the ignition, I get out of the car and I’m not even positive I closed the door as I take the twelve running steps into the room that is is buzzing with activity.

I can’t see her. _Why can’t I see her?_

The blonde is what catches my eye as paramedics in dark uniforms surround her. No. No. No. I can’t lose her. This can’t be happening.

Seven steps and I am pulling the tiny brunette away from her. Tossing the tiny person aside, and placing my hands on the soft cheeks that are staring up at me. “Clarke, I’m here.”

“Miss you need to let us finish our examine,” and I growl. I growl like a feral raccoon at the woman, who takes a step back.

Her voice is weak, as Clarke says, “Babe, I’m okay.”

“You’re not okay! There are paramedics examining you,” I say gesturing to the tall freckle faced man on the other side of the awkward chair.

Blue eyes roll, and a small smile plays on her lips, “I’m fine, Commander. I promise. This is just procedure.”

I bite my lip, and her hand comes up and tugs at my chin until I release it. I know she is saying that is hers without saying it. I want to taunt her a little, but I am too worried about what is happening to her. “I wanna take you home,” I tell her. And she nods.

“Let them finish so we can go.”

I reluctantly let her go, but take her hand, and stand by her side. I am not leaving. I’m not even going to move.

~~~~~

It takes two hours before we are allowed to leave. Two hours of holding on to her, and holding tiny cups of juice up to her lips, as she drank. She could hold the cup herself, but I wanted to baby her. I wanted to show her how much that I loved her through these little actions.

I guide her to the car, my hand on her arm and on her back. Moving slowly as she takes careful steps. Still a little woozy from everything that happened. I’m still fuming they wouldn’t just put her blood back in her. I mean that is clearly what is missing from her.

Helping her into the car, she ducks her head low. I crouch down, and guide the seat back so she can lay down. They said that would help her not be lightheaded anymore, and I want her to feel better.

As I start the car, I glance over and see her curled up in a tiny ball on the chair next to me. Her hair falling in her face, as she lays with her eyes closed.

We just sit there for a few moments. The car running as teens pass by through the parking lot from building to building. We have been together together for six months. In our new house for two months. A month without furniture because we spent more time rolling over the catalogues fighting for dominance over who would get their way.

She doesn’t know that I would have given her anything, anything she wanted just for being her. But the funny thing was, I think she really wanted to compromise with me. She wanted to give me that power. I just didn’t want her to let me have too much. I didn’t want her to just give me what I wanted, because I never wanted to feel like the others in her life.

But today spawned something new in me. I didn’t want children, and I knew that at some point in our lives we would have to compromise on that. That I would give her what she wants, but it doesn’t mean it won’t be hard.

I decide then though that I want to take a step with her. I want to give us something that is ours besides mismatched furniture. So I pull the phone out of my pocket and gps our destination. I hope she doesn’t mind the lengthy detour, but I want to show her I am ready for further commitment than just belonging to one another. I still can’t even say the word girlfriend. My own shitty memories of loves lost that makes the idea of commitment still terrifying. But I know that Clarke is different. She’s different because she doesn’t need to label, just me.

Yeah, I’m ready to take another step with her.

~~~~~

The drive is longer than I expect, but we are traveling into the shitty part of Phoenix. Run down houses and weed filled yards passing by. Her eyes flutter open, and I see her sit up a little.

Clarke’s brow creases just a little, and her sleepy face that is still too pale for comfort turns to me. “Lex, where the fuck are we going?”

“You’ll see, Prisa,” I answer, not wanting to tell her yet. I won’t lie I am sorta afraid she will tell me no.

She lays her head back down and reaches over so her fingers run lightly over over my thigh on top of my jeans. I feel the heat flooding my sex, and so I take her hand in mine, and intertwine her fingers with mine. The road is loud, and the car shakes a little with every single rough patch in the road.

“I was really worried about you today,” I admit. I feel her fingers tighten around mine, and I sense of relief washes over me. She understands, and she is being there for me. Not interrupting me. Just letting me confess the truths that she will never bring up again, because she knows feelings are difficult for me.

I see the sign for the Humane Society just up ahead. My lips tug into a smile that I usually reserve just for her. I know she loves animals as much as I do. I know that she will want a puppy. The trick it to convince her that we need a kitten, not a puppy.

Her body is up, and hands gripping the dashboard. Her mouth opens, but closes, and the way her blue eyes sparkle I know she is figuring it out. I mean there is no question as I pull into the small parking lot, to the musical note of dogs barking from around the building.

Reluctantly, I release her hand to put the car into park once more. Once it’s done, I shift in the seat to face her. I take her hand back in mine. Running my thumb over her pale skin, I map the tiny freckles of the little dipper.

I glance to the building, and say, “I know you’re not feeling well right now, but I want to show you that I am ready to move forward. That I want to share my life with you. And I just thought that if we got a kitten together then… maybe… it’s like a sign that I’m in this for long term.”

She leans over the center console, and her lips press against my cheek. I feel her warm breath cascade over my skin, and I just love her. I just love her and there is nothing else too it.

Softly, she asks before pressing her lips to mine, “Can we look at the puppies too, please?”

I want to roll my eyes at how well I know her, but I can’t because her teeth are connected to my lip, pulling at it possessively. For someone that is so submissive, there is one thing Clarke can do, run a kiss.

Her tongue sooths over her bite mark, once she releases my lip with a pop. Her lips are on mine then, and I open to give her access as she dominates me. Her tongue stroking mine, curling up and running over the roof of my mouth. My hand reaches over, and I run my fingers over her side, where the shirt has ridden up just slightly.

_Fuck, she is amazing._

She pulls back though, and with a smile, she says, “Now let’s go get a puppy!”

“Kitten!” I say with a huff, but she just waves her hand.

Clarke’s door is open and I see her get out of the car on wobbly legs. Maybe this wasn't the best idea. I should have waited until she’s feeling better. She stands still for a minute gripping the door, and I get out immediately rushing to her side.

She’s in my arms, and I can feel her shaking a little. It worries me, and I feel like an ass for not just taking her home. My arms hold her close, and she rests her head on my chest. I hope she doesn’t worry over how fast it is beating. Truthfully, it is always beating like this when she is around.

“We can come back, Prisa,” I say with my lips to her head.

She taps me though, and shakes her head slowly. “I want to do this with you… now please.” I shudder as I feel arousal flooding my senses, but she swats me. “Not like that, you perv!”

I huff and try to get it under control as I take her hand, and we walk into the shelter.

Following the signs to the cat area, we walk slowly. I am so excited though, and I want to bounce from one glass case to the next. But Clarke is too weak for that, so we move slowly. One by one, we look at each cat. There are really no kittens, and I won’t lie, I want a kitten.

There is a woman in a blue shirt, and she looks like she works there. She is helping an older couple, but when they retreat I see my chance. I step towards her, and ask, “Do you have any kittens?”

The woman looks us over, as though she is evaluating our ability to be kitten parents. A eyebrow quirks, as she says, “We have one, but she is a handful.”

Clarke snorts suddenly, and her hand wraps around my arm, “Then they will be perfect for each other.”

I look from Clarke to the woman, and ask again, “Can we… see her?”

The woman nods, and disappears behind a door only to return with a brown box. The walls of the box are shaking violently, with a loud mewling coming from inside.

“She was ferral when she was found. Almost drown in a storm gutter when some kids heard her crying out.”

She guides us into a tiny room, where she sets the box down. Carefully she opens the box, and I expected the kitten to jump out, but nothing. Clarke take a seat in the hard plastic chair, and gestures to the box. I take a step forward and look down. Buried in a corner is a dark little fluff ball with dark rings around it’s eyes. it almost looks like a raccoon. Almost like the little spirit animal of my favorite character that was brutally murdered before my eyes last night.

“Klark,” I say, as I reach down, and pick up the hissing little beast. It really is an angry little girl, but I can’t help but want her. Holding her in my hands, because she seriously can’t be more than five to six weeks, I hold her out to Clarke who raises a brow at me.

“It doesn’t seem to like people, Lexi,” she says with concern coating every word. Her eyes scanning the hissing little beast. But it stops its growling when its eyes lock on my princess. Held tilting and taking in the blue eyed beauty that I get to call mine. 

I shake my head, and stroke the little fur ball under the chin. I think maybe I get a little purr before the head turn and looks at me, hissing again.  _Rude._

“She looks like Heda,” I say though, and I try to fight back the tears that are pricking at my eyes. _You will not cry. You will not cry!_

Clarke’s head is nodding as she comes up, and looks over the kitten. When blue eyes raise, she smiles and says, “So, little Heda it is.”

I nod, and pull the kitten into me. Which is a mistake, because its little sharp teeth bite down on my finger, and furious nails dig into my skin up my shoulder. She has nowhere to go, and I feel her burying her tiny body into my big mess of hair. She doesn’t move much, but I hunch over.

Princess laughs at me, and her phone is pulled from her pocket as she snaps the first photo of me and my little Heda. Holding out the phone, she shows me the photo, and I smile at the strangled smile I am giving the camera.

The woman comes back then, and she is much more helpful than the giggling blonde with bouncing tits in the corner of the room. Seriously, she refused to help me get Heda out of my hair, telling me she was my project and she would love on her while she sleeps.

Handing the little fur covered beast back to me, I rub her in all the places I know will relax a cat. The woman hands Clarke the forms, and I watch as my girl declares our joint ownership of little heda. She holds the clipboard to me, and points to the line on the bottom next to where she had already scribbled her name. My eyes meet hers, and I scribble next to her name without looking.

When the woman comes back, she takes the clipboard and looks it over. “Did you want to get Heda microchipped today?”

Clarke answers in the affirmative, and the woman reaches out to take our kitten from me. I pull back, and look at Clarke, “no, mine.”

Shaking her head, Clarke answers, “Yes, yours. But she is going to go and put a chip in her so you don’t lose her.” She moves back to her seat, and is resting comfortably. Her face is still pale, but her smile is broad, and I love that smile. 

I furrow my brows when I turn to look at the woman, who has suddenly become very suspicious. Like she may run away with my kitten if I hand her over. I glance down to the name tag, and read over the strange name. _Emori? Who the hell names their kid Emori?_

Sternly, I ask, “As you going to hurt her?”

The woman lets out a breath of laughter, and shakes her head. “No, she will be fine. Just avoid rubbing over the chip for a few days.”

Reluctantly, I let _Emori_ take Heda from me. Clarke stands just as she leaves, and says with a quick smirk, “Okay, puppies now!”

The excitement in her tone and the creases around her eyes, tells me there is no way that Heda is the only fur ball coming home with us today. She is tugging on my hand, and I see the color has settled somewhat in her cheeks again. I lean forward and steal a kiss before she wiggles free and is out the door leaving me to tail her.

It takes her no time to find the fenced in area of puppies. It breaks my heart to pass by the barking mutts everywhere, and I am surprised that Clarke didn’t stop at each one. But she’s on a mission, and she doesn’t stop until she sees the pin of yapping dogs.

Glancing at the sign, it tells me that they are a litter of pitbull labrador mixes. _Great, she wants a giant dog_. I see her sitting before the cage though, and little tongues are running all over her hands. One little pup with chocolate fur and greenish blue eyes is pawing over the rest, even though she is clearly the smallest. Its squirming little butt and wanky tail is enough to drive me even to think she is perfect for Clarke. Though part of me wants to make a joke that maybe Clarke should get a chihuahua since her voice sounds like one when she gets really excited, but I don’t. I know it makes her irritated and I want her to enjoy this moment.

A large burly man in a blue shirt similar to the own Emori was wearing comes up and asks, “Wanna see a pup?”

I reach out and help my girl to her feet. She is still wobbly, but the excitement has filled her with a new glow. I hold her hip as Clarke nods eagerly pointing to the bouncing butt on the top of the others, biting her way to the gate. “That one, please.”

I look at his tag, and read Gustus. It's a good name, and it matches his build and rough mannerisms, as he tugs at the gate. Reaching in with a large hand he scoops up the wiggling and waggling mutt and puts the little squishy thing in Clarke’s arms. It’s little pink tongue is immediately running over her face, and Clarke laughs in joy.

Looking up, she asks, “Please, Lexi. Please?”

I smile, and tell her, “Anything if you’ll smile like that everyday.” She buries her face into my chest with the squirming pup between us.

“I love you, Lexa,” she says, but her body softens for a moment, and I look down to see her eyes locked on a cage a few rows down. As a turn, I see the large dark mutt looking out at us. Warm brown eyes and large tongue hanging out.

Gustus comes over and points to the cage that Clarke is looking at. With gruff words, he says, “That’s Indra. She lost her litter, but nursed this one when the mom wouldn’t take care of her.”

My chest tightens as I think about my own past. Of the surrogate family I grew up with, and I look down to see big blue eyes begging me. I close my eyes and take a deep breath. We came here for a kitten. Well, I came for a kitten, and now we are taking a kitten, a puppy and a giant mutt. For some reason, I feel like I should be more worried about this. For some reason, I feel like I should be saying no.

But, I don’t. I only ask, “Do yo know if she’s okay with cats?”

His beard covers most of his smile, but he nods, and I sigh, “We’ll take them both.”

He takes the pup from Clarke’s arms, and holds it up by the scruff of her neck. Her tail still wiggling a mile a minute, as he says, “Well, O guess you are going with your mom after all.”

“O?” Clarke asks, and Gustus looks at her curiously.

“You can rename her, but my daughter’s obsessed with mythology and named all of the pups after greeks and romans. This little one is Octavia.”

“Octavia.” Clarke tries it out, and I watch the smile spread from her lips to her eyes. Her head bobs once and she whispers, “Octavia it is then.”

~~~~~

The paperwork for the animals really was not that bad. No, nothing would compare to the Petsmart trip, as we stood in the aisle arguing over what color Indra’s color needed to be. Although my success at getting Indra a leather studded collar was undeniable, it was muted when Clarke schooled me over the proper food because apparently I am clueless.

We finally make it home, loaded with supplies. A slide-in dog door for the backyard, a self-cleaning cat litter box. Collars, Leashes, food bowls, a water bowl that looks like a fucking fountain, dog and cat toys, and of course tags that took Clarke an infinite amount of time to actually design.

But we were home to a yapping pup, and a gentle tempered older dog that was carrying around Heda by the scruff of her neck and dropping her back on the rug only for the cat to beeline back to the curtains. I smile because I hate those curtains.

Warmth sloshes around inside, and I look over to where Clarke is rolling around the hardwood floor with the pup that is pouncing all over her. Indra’s bark is more like an annoyed groan, but Heda drops from the curtain and cowers over to the dog a little.

So this is family. Our family, and it’s perfect in it’s mix matched fashion. Just like the blonde on the floor looking up at me with her wide, 'fuck me, beautiful' eyes. And I nod, because she’s home and she is safe, and she is mine. Just like the rowdy kru of animals we just adopted.

But I have her in my arms and her ass off the ground to coffee table. Her shirt off and back pressing to the cool metal surface that has her arching her tits towards me so I bite down through the weak padding of her bra as I yank at her straps. I want her naked. I want her naked, but she doesn’t help me.

So I tug at the straps pulling the offending garment down and seeing pink perked nipples standing out at attention. I take it in my mouth, running my tongue over it and then biting down to hear her breath out, “Fuck, yes.”

My hands are working at her pants. I have then unbuttoned so I lean up to pull them down. And suddenly there are claws… fucking claws crawling up the side of my jeans and then my side. Each one digging in so fucking deep I want to scream. I try to wiggle free but Heda is up on Clarke’s leg and then sitting her ass down on my omega’s stomach staring at me. I reach out to pick her up, but the tiny paw reaches out with full claws and swipes at my hand.

The cat is suddenly bouncing up and down slightly as I see Clarke’s head thrown back in full laughter. Laughing that Heda is completely cockblocking me. _What the fuck was I thinking? This is why I don’t want kids._


End file.
